


Fire & Ice

by ifwednesdaywasaflowerchild



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 16:44:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14453511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifwednesdaywasaflowerchild/pseuds/ifwednesdaywasaflowerchild
Summary: Short snapshots of the life of James Buchanan Barnes and Wanda Maximoff as they navigate life with a team of superheroes, what it means to be one, and their own relationship with each other.





	1. Red & Blue

  
She's red. 

Scarlett smoke and bright bursts of energy curling between her hands. Cracking across the earth. She's fire and energy and pain. She knows what's like to lose yourself in the smoke of someone else's propaganda. She knows what it's like to have that part of you that was so pure, so right, be torn apart and put together for someone else's gain. She knows what's it like to rip apart pillows and sheets while in the throes of a night terror. She's tried to kill herself. Her magic kept her alive. 

...

He's blue.

  
The blue of frozen cryo chambers, unbroken ice, and snow capped mountains rushing past him in a blur. He's ice and silver and bullets. He was lost in the same kind of smoke, she was; the propaganda that's blown in your face by the people, who swear they can change the world, make it better and brighter for future generations. He's had so much of himself torn away, torn apart, and stitched back on in a way that doesn't quite fit. He's destroyed beds because of night terrors. He's attempted to take his own arm off. He bled through gauze pads and thick bandages for three days while it scarred over, again. 


	2. Intrigue

Wanda Maximoff intrigues Bucky Barnes.

The fact that she could electrocute him just by touching his arm is a deciding factor in this could-be-fatal attraction. Bucky likes danger. The thrill of knowing it could be bad for you, of knowing the risks but going for it, anyway. He likes the rush of adrenaline. Of course, if that rush happened to come with green eyes, long brown hair, and the heat of magic and energy, who was he to complain?

...

Bucky Barnes intrigues Wanda Maximoff.

The eerie nature of his metal arm and his ability to rip people apart with one arm is a deciding factor in this maybe-kind of-odd attraction to the Winter Soldier. It's a bit of a rush, really. The knowledge that he is just as dangerous as she is, because they've both got something foreign about them. Her magic. His metal arm. She likes the comfort it brings her, knowing that they're both different. If that came with an almost six foot, dark haired, dark eyed man with a metal limb, and a fluency in Russian, who was she to complain?


	3. Living

She speaks Sokovian when she's scared.

It's fast and she trips over words, but she still speaks it when she's scared, and right now, she's terrified. Stalled there, spitting Sokovian, and unable to conjure up the explosive magic she needs to ward off the threat heading towards her. It's large, looming over her like a heavy shadow, and she's frozen and about to be full of bullets. Clint sees it, before Steve does.

"Sergeant!" left hook, pause, and then something that looks like a child swinging a rag doll before he pulls an arrow from his quiver and slams it violently into the man's chest. "Get Wanda! We're not losing her the same way we lost her brother!"

He's barely uttered the words before Bucky reacts.

No.

Wanda will not be dying today. Not on his watch.

He's running, sprinting, each step springing off the ground until he reaches them. In a few fluid seconds, the assassin is disarmed and eliminated, swaying to the ground with a guttural choke as if a noose had been tightened around his thick neck.

"Maximoff?"

She tries to speak.

She wants to.

But, all that comes out is Sokovian. It's a little broken, a little tired, and she struggles to find the right words, but Bucky understands and speaks softly to her, the harsh language softening around the edges, in his low timbre.

A few seconds more of his soft voice soothing her in Sokovian (because of course he speaks it), and once again, her magic is curling and crackling between her hands. Sparking against her finger tips. Thrumming through her. He just smiles and nods his head toward the enemies, they've been fighting. Stray hounds, outliers from Hydra, hunting down the people, who took out their leaders.

"Go get 'em, Witch."

Locked eyes.

Nod.

Duck.

Swirl of scarlet. 

Men falling like dominoes in a line. All square shoulders and blood thirsty. Basic instinct, really. She wipes them out with a flick of her wrist. His eyebrows raise and a proud smile pulls at his mouth when he looks up to see their targets laying in a relatively uniform pile, for her magic to be as unpredictable as it can be at times.

She knows.

Dying. It's every man's worst fear. It's the one reality, they hate facing. Except for him. His worst isn't dying. It isn't succumbing to the overwhelming darkness of death. It's not even dying without having fulfilled his purpose on earth. James Barnes' worst fear?

Living.


	4. Nightmare (Bucky)

He speaks Russian in the middle of the night. 

In the throes of the darkest night terrors, his subconscious has to offer, he slurs Russian through a thick tongue and dry mouth. It's loud and since she's in the room right next to his in the tower, she hears it first. It forces her awake, yanks her out of her pleasant dream (being a little child with Pietro) violently. She's left sitting in bed, gasping for air, until she realizes what it is she's hearing. 

"James!" 

She tosses the blankets off of her legs and rushes out of her room. Wanda knows better than to go storming in on him, so she carefully eases the door open and slips into the room, shutting it behind her. His bedroom isn't far from the door and she's not exactly blind in the dark so she finds it easily. 

"James?" she opens the door and tip-toes across the room to his bed. "James, you need to wake up." 

But, he doesn't hear her. 

He thrashes and moans and slurs and sweat pours. Simply talking isn't going to pull him from this. She's going to have wake him up, calm him, and ease him back to sleep because he generally doesn't like going back to sleep after a nightmare. 

"James," Wanda slides onto the bed beside him, reaching over to touch him. Scarlet smoke curls through tendrils of sweaty hair and she's surprised by the clamminess of his skin. "James, wake up." 

His only response is Russian. 

So, she leans down close to him, mouth just brushing his ear and like he did for her, not a month ago, she speaks her mother tongue. It's a slow, rhythmic lullaby of soothing words and pet names. It's not so much what she's saying as how she manipulates his mind and pulls him to the surface, like pulling a drowning man up for air. 

Bucky is conscious in a few minutes, but he's drowsy and dazed. His heavy eyes are barely able to meet hers but when they do, a sleepy half smile pulls at his mouth. "'itch, 'hat are you doing?" 

"You were having a nightmare, James." she soothes him tenderly, calming her magic in order to run her hand through his damp hair. "Are you alright?" 

"'m fine." it's an absent movement, what he does. His good arm - it's not that his metal arm is bad, he just doesn't like to call it his arm - reaches up and slips around her small waist. "Stay with me?" 

"James." 

"'lease, Witch?" 

He's so tired but so warm and strong and the softness of his t-shirt looks awfully inviting. She crowds in closer, curling against his side as he tightens his arm around her and she pulls the blankets up over them. 

Bucky sleeps like a baby. 

Wanda's magic is the calmest it's ever been. 


	5. Nightmare (Wanda)

_"PIETRO!"_

Sweat pours. 

Cold, clammy skin. 

Everything is warm and sticky against her skin and the dark edges of the nightmare still lurk. Inescapable. She wonders if it'll ever end. If there will ever be a night where she doesn't relive her worst fear over and over again. Where she doesn't see her brother die. But, she knows there won't be. 

So, she runs. 

For his room. 

He understands, or at least, he tries. Because, he has nightmares. He feels the same terror and grief and guilt that she does. And, he doesn't seem to mind when she shakes him awake, no matter how roughly. 

"He dies, James." 

"'hat?" he's half-asleep; groggy, disoriented, and barely has his wits about him enough to turn the lights on. "Jarvis, lights." 

She's there. 

Fidgeting by his bed, sweaty nightgown clinging to her breasts and ribs, and a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead. She looks uncomfortable and her eyes are glassy with tears.

There's a faint swirl of scarlett between her hands; it's there to protect her when her emotions surge.

"Witch," he sits up, tossing the covers off of his legs. She's gone still, seemingly frozen, but he sees it glowing. It's burning bright red, heat emanating in waves from the magic and the emotions. He reaches up, taking her hands in one of his, head tilting back as his eyes plead with her to come back. "Maximoff, hey." 

He rubs her hand with his, gingerly working his fingers along hers, magic pulsing against his fingertips. He closes his fingers between hers, curling them into her palm. It's hot, her magic, and it feels like a thousand little electric pulses. 

It feels strangely good. 

And, ever so slowly, his touch brings her back. 

"There you are," Bucky smiles softly, tugging her hand. "Want to tell me why I'm awake at this God-forsaken hour?" 

"He dies, James." her accent is thicker, and he's pretty sure it's only like that when she's scared or vulnerable. Like her magic. "In my dreams. My worst nightmare is seeing my brother die." 

"But - " 

"It replays, James." Wanda explains, looking down at the floor. "In my dreams, I watch him die a thousand different ways." 

"Witch." he knows. Knows she possesses the unique ability to show people their worst fears. Their nightmares. And, that had to live hers. Relive it every night. It hurts him to think of her dealing with that pain on a nightly basis. "I don't know what to say, sweetheart." he looks down at the bed, all warm and wrinkled sheets, and then back up at her, offering her a shy smile. "Why don't you stay here, tonight?" 

"James - " 

"I don't bite." Bucky teases, moving so that she has room to get on the bed. "C'mon. Climb in." 

She climbs in his bed slowly, still unsure and vulnerable, and sinks down in the soft mattress and feather pillows. He wraps his good arm around her and molds himself to her back. 

Wanda doesn't have a single nightmare. 

She thanks him the next morning. 

He doesn't say "you're welcome". Not because he's an asshole (although, Steve would argue that), but because his voice was gone before day break. 


	6. Apologies

"You _don't know_ how the world works, Wanda!" Bucky wants to believe she does, but he knows the truth. Experimented on in a basement labratory shuts you off from the world, from current events. She just doesn't understand. "You walk into these facilities alone and you'll be gunned down before you even open the door!"

"How do you know?"

"Because, I've read a history book!" She hasn't. Not on American history. She doesn't know about September 11th. About the twin towers, the Pentagon, terrorism, or anything of the sort. She knows Sokovia and Ultron and the Avengers and the world she's been safely tucked away in. She doesn't know the real world. "Wanda, September 11th almost shut down the U.S. Security is maxed out, just about everywhere you go! This lab isn't the damn basement you were brought up in!"

He regrets it almost as soon as the words leave his mouth.

Her hands burn scarlet and tears fill her eyes.

Shit.

He messed up. Big time.

"That basement was my home! My brother was in that basement!" Wanda turns on him, energy gathering around her. "I didn't know any better! They never told me any better! I'm not an infant, James! I only know what I was told." the tears fall, and her hands clench, ball of energy trembling between them. "I'm sorry, I'm not as smart as some of you. I'm sorry you have to treat me like a child."

"No, Witch, I'm sorry." it's not the cold, harsh tone, he was using earlier. It's softer. Sweeter. And, it's enough to make Steve roll his eyes. (Bucky may be his best friend but he's also a womanizer) "I shouldn't have said that. I don't want you to feel like I'm treating you like a kid. That's not what I want."

"What do you want, James?"

"I just want you, Witch." Bucky sighs softly, reaching for her hands. "Just you."

She yanks them away.

She's not in the right mindset to forgive him, and her magic is still tethered to her emotions. It's still rolling through her blood, coiling in her stomach, ready to attack the nearest moving target.

Bucky.

It appears to happen in slow motion.

Sam and Rhodey step back and Steve hooks an arm around Natasha, pulling her away just in time for them to see a wobbly bundle of magic hit the Wing Chun dummy. When the smoke clears and they can all think clearly, all that's left of the martial arts mannequin is a scattering of splinters. Bucky is sprawled on the floor, his metal arm crackling red, and his other hand on his stomach, as he tries to control his breathing. Time seems to move at normal speed, again, as he lifts himself up and reaches for her. He hooks his arm - the metal one - around her waist and backs her up into the nearest wall. "Witch, stop."

She's shaking.

Hard.

"Witch," his voice is low in her ear, mouth brushing against her skin. "Breathe."

Sokovian.

And, a lot of it.

It pours from her mouth, rapidly and without hesitation; eyes still aglow with the haunting blood red of magic. He listens, breathing still harsh, and waits for the out-pour of her mother tongue to stop so he can respond.

"I know you miss your brother, sweetheart." his good hand trails up her arm, ignoring the sting of the electrical pulses her magic tends to give off. It feels like static electricity turned up several dozen notches, but it's painless compared to electroshock therapy. "But, you've got to calm down before you cost Stark another martial arts dummy."

"I didn't ask to be - "

"Nobody said you did, Witch." he moves his arm and shifts to her side. "But, this magic of yours, it's tethered to whatever you feel."

"I will apologize." Wanda deflates, hands unclenching and he feels the shift, under his hand. Electrified to neutral in the blink of an eye. He tugs her away from the wall and wraps both arms around her, pulling her into him as he kisses the side of her head. "James?"

"Yeah." Bucky nods against her head. "We can go."

"Thank you."

"C'mon, Witch. Let's get out of here."

Steve releases Natasha and Sam and Rhodey cautiously move away from the wall. They all watch, still shell-shocked from the events that just transpired, as Bucky easily lifts Wanda up into his arms and she curls into his chest easily, arms crossing over her stomach. He talks to her calmly and quietly, voice disappearing in the top of her head.

When she apologizes to Tony, he just presses a kiss into her forehead and murmurs; "It's alright, Little Witch. I've been angry, too."

Bucky quietly thanks him as they turn to leave.


End file.
